stared at Melanie, who closed her mouth with a snap.
“Does anyone know the Founder’s original spell?” Mel asked faintly.
Blair shook his head.
“But people must have discovered something similar,” Sera said excitedly, pacing across the room to her. “Even if it went down a different road. Point us, Mel.”
Although Melanie looked more alarmed than inspired, it didn’t stop everyone staring at her in hopeful silence. Only the faint rustling sound of Blair turning the pages of his book disturbed the quiet.
Then Blair stood up and walked over to where Sera stood with Melanie. Somewhat to Sera’s pique, he laid the book on the table in front of Mel, who glanced from him to Sera and down to the pages.
Blair put his finger on the page. “There’s a pre-death spell to animate the dead. To be cast several days before death takes place, to make the body responsive to reanimation. It’s associated with zombies rather than vampires, but the important point is it’s meant to instill obedience to the caster.”
“And if the spell’s cast before the turning, before the person is a vampire, then it bypasses the Founder’s magic,” Sera said triumphantly. “No wonder they seem a different species from you…”
Melanie began to read while everyone else watched her. After a moment, Sera peered over her shoulder. The words didn’t make any sense to her.
At last, Melanie raised her gaze to Blair’s face. “Would that work on a vampire?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I don’t think Smith knew whatever he used would work either. I doubt it had ever been tried before in conjunction with the creation of a vampire.”
“Then why would he risk it?” Sera asked.
“Because that’s what he does. He takes risks and grabs opportunities, and makes his plans accordingly. I think he can talk to the dead, as you do. And I think that gave him the idea which he put into practice when he encountered a vampire. Arthur, probably. Whatever magic he used to compel obedience has interfered with whatever occurs naturally to turn the dead into the undead.”
For the benefit of the others who were looking bewildered—even Jilly had glanced up from her laptop, frowning—Sera repeated Blair’s words, adding hastily, “It makes a weird kind of sense to me, but it isn’t proof. You’re just guessing. We’re all just guessing.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But it struck me today when I was talking to Jason. Even for fledglings, they don’t think for themselves. They’re more like zombies, acting from instinct or obedience, not from desire.”
Slowly, mulling it over, Sera repeated Blair’s speech.
“Fuck,” Jack said in some awe. “Is he saying we’re dealing with a hybrid of vampire, zombie, and banker? How scary is that?”
Melanie pointed her pen at Blair. “I think you’re on to something. We need an enchantment to reverse zombie spells.”
“Simple,” Sera said faintly.
****
By the time Sera fell asleep, there was hope. They’d found a powerful counter-spell to the one Blair had brought to their attention, and Melanie was sure she knew now how to break the caster’s hold.
“Postpone the celebrations,” she advised. “We’ll give it a shot tomorrow when I’ve slept.”
Jilly had already fallen asleep, satisfied she’d caused at least some havoc in the banking world while covering her tracks.
“Even if they do catch you,” Elspeth comforted, “I’m sure they’ll be more lenient when you haven’t actually stolen anything.”
“Not sure it works that way,” Jilly murmured, shoving the laptop off her knee and curling into the chair with her eyes closed. Sera threw a blanket over her.
Under protest, Elspeth was given Sera’s bed. The rest crashed out on the floor or sofa. As Sera gave in to exhaustion, she was aware of Blair standing by the window, looking into the night. He was very still, very straight, and something about his long, lean back and the way his hair curled over his neck made her heart ache. Tonight, he might have been human.
But he wasn’t.
There were so many reasons to draw back from whatever it was she’d found with him. She knew she was doing the right thing.
And yet, when she woke up suddenly to the clicking of the front door lock, she was on her feet and running down the stairs in nameless panic before she was properly conscious.
He must have heard her coming. At the speed he moved, he could have been halfway home before her foot hit the top step. Instead, he stood below her, one hand on the half-open door as he watched her descent.
“You’re going,” she whispered stupidly.
“It’s nearly dawn.”
Reaching